


Your Definition of Love (Is Different From Mine)

by quantumdragon



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Dark fic, HYDRA Steve, Hydra Cap, Hydra Steve is a Dick, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Nothing explicit, ish, sorta - Freeform, there is a slight mention of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 21:26:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15155966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quantumdragon/pseuds/quantumdragon
Summary: After waking up from his coma, Tony has a lot of questions for Hydra Cap. And Steve has answers - but not the ones Tony was expecting.





	Your Definition of Love (Is Different From Mine)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ironlawyer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ironlawyer/gifts).



> For Ironlawyer's prompt "Hydra Cap thinks he knows what love is. Tony doesn't agree." 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Toshi!

There was a certain joy that came from the pain of exercising, the sweet ache of his muscles after pushing himself to his limits. However, as Steve rounded out his pushups at ten thousand with no sign of ache, he supposed that his limits were quite difficult to reach. There was little else to do in Shadow Pillar’s only occupied cell, since Steve had not been provided with any recreational material for fear of him manipulating it towards an escape. This, of course, was patently ridiculous. There was no way he could escape the Shadow Pillar, the most secure black-site in the world, using only books or magazines, or whatever else was given. He had no intention of escaping at all. He wouldn’t need to.

Besides, building a weapon to escape simply wasn’t his style - that was more Tony’s route. Steve continued his reps, pushing past the ten thousand mark, as he contemplated what Tony would do if stuck in his situation. The guards would know well enough not to give him anything he could conceivably make a weapon out of, although that wouldn’t prevent Tony from doing so anyways. _He may not even want to escape_ , Steve thought wryly. If Tony thought he deserved imprisonment, his self-hatred and depression would keep him locked away more securely than any prison could.

His thoughts were diverted by the sound of footsteps emanating from the hallway. This was not, in and of itself, unusual, but the timing and pattern of the steps were. Steve had long since memorized the times that the guards patrolled the hallway, since they followed a rather simple scrambling algorithm, and the pattern of the guards’ footsteps was heavy and even. Some of the footsteps were indeed those of the guards, but one set was lighter and out of time with the rest.

A visitor.

Steve paused his regimen for a moment, and then continued, contemplating exactly who this visitor could be. No normal civilian, and likely no member of the government or military either - this site was too secure - so it must be some member of the superhero community. Anyone being escorted by guards must be here officially, so they must be a prominent member as well. Carol’s steps would be quicker and more regular, Thor’s would be much heavier, T’Challa’s would be lighter, Strange would float for the look of it and leave no sound...perhaps Sam? But as the sounds came closer, Steve realized from the sound that the visitor was wearing dress shoes, and that left only one option - Tony.

Steve stopped moving, startled. This was...unexpected. He swung his body around so his back faced the door, and sat on the floor cross-legged. Last Steve knew, Tony was an AI inhabiting a suit of armor, but this visit clearly indicated that was outdated information. As the footsteps approached the door, he took the time to wonder why exactly Tony would be visiting him. _He_ had visited out of curiosity, yes, and Tony was certainly a curious enough person to do so, but why not come earlier if mere curiosity was the motive? There must be some other desire, some other need. A question to be answered? Biological samples to collect? Steve supposed that he was about to find out, as the door swung open behind him and the footsteps stopped.

“Hello Tony,” Steve intoned. To Tony’s credit, he didn’t gasp or startle at Steve’s greeting. He merely sighed, stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him.

“Hello,” he said. Steve looked over his shoulder and raised his eyebrows.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Not one you deserve,” Tony snarked, a cutting comment in a light voice. Steve turned to face him fully, but stayed on the floor. Let Tony think he was in power, for now. Steve would have his time later.

Tony stood alone by the door, wearing a suit, but not one of metal. Sure, he could likely summon the armor at a moment's notice, but a moment would be all Steve needed with no guards around. Tony was normally smarter than that, so this defenselessness must be unconscious, an inherent trust in Steve. Steve wouldn’t hurt Tony, this was a diplomatic meeting, Steve had honor, Steve had morals. He laughed internally. _He_ did, sure, but _he_ wasn’t here. _Only me,_ Steve thought.

“I’ll be honest,” he said, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Which is why you knew who I was, right,” Tony replied. Steve smiled slightly at that, hiding his delight. He truly hadn’t known that Tony was coming, not until a few moments before his arrival. If Tony was overestimating him like that, if he believed the truth to be a lie just because it was Steve who said it, that put him in the perfect position. No matter what Tony was here for, he was here, and that made him a connection to the outside world. A tool.

“What are you here for, Tony?” he said. Tony put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, a show of calm. He grinned, brash and toothy.

“Why,” he said, “can’t a man gloat?”

“If you wanted to gloat, you would have come earlier.” Tony shrugged, undeterred.

“I was busy, what with being in a coma and all,” he said, then pushed himself off the wall. “Look, I’m sure you’re busy as well, what with all...this,” Tony said, gesturing around the empty room, “but if you can spare a minute of your time there’s a few things I would love to know.”

Steve smiled gently, a parody of kindness, of his other self. “Of course,” he said, and felt a curl of satisfaction at the discomfort that flitted across Tony’s face. That was quickly smoothed away, and Tony moved to stand above Steve at the center of the room.

“I wasn’t exactly present for your brief reign as the Worst Person in America, and although I’ve gotten some excellent info about exactly what you did, there’s a few details that need filling in.”

“Ask away,” Steve said, and noted that Tony remarked he wasn’t present when his AI certainly had been. It seems the AI hadn’t been Tony at all, and was merely a copy, although that contradicted what Steve had heard from Zola. Perhaps he and Zola needed to have a little chat soon about providing reliable information.

Tony began to pace around the room.“In Nevada, when you and your forces attacked the Underground’s base, you used Ultron tech to solidify my AI and prevent him from leaving. Correct?”

“Correct,” Steve said, and noted Tony’s use of ‘him’.

“He then tried to blow you up by blowing up the base, right?”

Steve twitched slightly at the memory. He had gotten away unscathed, true, but not without Elisa...without Elisa…

“Yes,” he said, and left it at that.

Except, that wasn’t exactly what had happened, was it? No, there had been something else of note in between anchoring the AI and being transported away, an enlightening conversation. Steve made a show of pausing and tilting his head to look in the distance, and then continued.

“Well…” he said, and waited. As expected, Tony stopped pacing and looked at Steve in confusion, his attention sufficiently piqued.

“Well?” he parroted. Steve shrugged.

“There was a brief conversation in between those two points. Nothing of note, really, just some idle conversation,” Steve said, and smiled slightly. Tony narrowed his eyes, instantly doubting Steve’s words. Tony’s own suspicion did more to steer him than any lie Steve could ever tell. Steve wondered if Tony’ wariness was overcompensating to combat the inherent trust he had in Steve. Steve wondered how that was working out for Tony.

“And what exactly did this ‘idle conversation’ consist of?” Tony demanded. Steve sighed, and put a contemplative look on his face before dropping the bomb.

“It was all a bit sentimental, to be honest. He told me he regretted how we fought, how he was sorry for letting me down,” Steve smiled, “How I was his hero, and he was trying to save me.” Steve noted the look of panic and embarrassment on Tony’s face. He was always so beautifully expressive, even when trying not to let anything show. That iron mask of his had cracks, and the cracks showed that although it was the AI that had made those proclamations, Tony believed them as well. But the AI had said something else as well, something surprising…

“He said it wasn’t worth it,” Steve stated, and watched Tony’s face for...nothing. Interesting. Clearly Tony had more gaps in his memory than his AI, since one evidently remembered Steve’s old question and one didn’t. Another thought struck Steve - if Tony hadn’t known about the conversation, but had known about the rest, his AI must have left out the conversation deliberately when briefing Tony.

He could see Tony reaching the same conclusion, the realization dawning in his eyes that his AI had been lying to him, and Steve let himself chuckle slightly. Tony’s head snapped to look at Steve, clearly bitter about this new revelation.

“You thought you knew everything he knew, didn’t you?” Steve said. Tony’s nose flared in annoyance, but he said nothing, so Steve continued. “He clearly knew everything you knew about your past, and even a few things you didn’t.” Tony’s brow furrowed.

“What else did he know?” Tony asked, eager for any information Steve could give him, forgetting his earlier wariness. Steve decided to indulge him with the truth - after all, it would likely sting the most.

“He remembered the war,” Steve said, and watched the shock bloom on Tony’s face. Tony took a step back, unconsciously moving away from Steve.

Steve knew that the relationship between him and Tony was delicate and subject to strain. He knew this intimately, and had been cautious of it when manipulating Tony in the past. But by coming to visit him, Tony had brought a rare opportunity - a chance to affect the outside world, through Tony. Knowing what he knew, the time was past for subtlety and the pulling of strings. There was so little he could do to affect _him_ , his other self, the one who had locked him away, but this? This could destroy the careful balance he and Tony had found in recent years, and in doing so could destroy him.

The key, Steve knew, was for Tony to believe him.

“I have a question for you,” Steve began, standing up. Tony took another step back, watching Steve’s movement and awaiting his question with unease. “Your AI was a copy of your brain, and he knew all your memories.”

“Yes,” Tony said after a pause, confirming Steve’s statement.

“So he could speak, with authority, about what you believed and felt?”

“Yes,” Tony spat out, believing Steve’s question to be confirming that Tony felt the same as his AI. _Oh no, Tony_ , Steve thought, _I didn’t need to ask to figure that out. You’re much too transparent_.

“So,” Steve said, “would you allow me the same courtesy?” Tony blinked at Steve’s sudden shift in subject. “Do you accept that, if your AI knew what you believed, and what you felt, that I know what Steve feels?”

“I’m sorry, what does that have to do with my AI?” Tony asked. Steve sighed.

“I’m trying to offer a little reciprocity here. Your AI revealed something you clearly are uncomfortable with me knowing. It’s only fair that I do the same,” Steve explained.

“I’m sorry, when exactly have you been concerned with fairness? When you turned America into a fascist dictatorship? When you killed Natasha?” Tony demanded. So Natasha was still dead, then. Steve wondered what was taking her so long.

“Look, are you willing to believe that I know what he knows? That I understand how he feels?” Steve asked. Tony stared at him, his jaw clicking in frustration.

“Fine,” he spat out. “I believe that. But I don’t believe that you’re doing this, whatever this is, out of the goodness of your heart.” Steve nodded in acknowledgement and suppressed a smile. Tony didn’t need to trust his motives - he just needed to believe. Steve tilted up his head and looked Tony in the eye, before saying what he had told Tony’s body many months ago.

“He loved you.”

Tony recoiled instantly, his face moving through a million emotions before he turned away, putting his back to Steve. He didn’t need to ask ‘romantic or platonic’ - he knew from the tone of their conversation exactly what Steve meant. And as predicted, it was tearing him apart.

Steve knew, as sure as he knew right from left, that his other self loved Tony. He knew that his other self cared what Tony thought of him, that he enjoyed his company, that he regretted the events that had left their relationship strained and cold. He had been longing to repair that relationship, and would undoubtedly want to spend more time with Tony to do so. Therefore, it followed that Steve would be hurt if Tony pulled away, if Tony treated him with coldness. And when he was hurt, he lashed out, and his anger would likely destroy whatever chance at a friendship the two had. If Steve had put them both on the same team, this would disturb the team as well, and all of his other self’s plans to rebuild after Steve’s empire would come crashing down around his ears. So much in the superhero community relied on the relationship between Steve and Tony, and Tony had handed him the opportunity to rip it apart.

His other self had done so much to hide his feelings, even suppressing them so much as to deny their existence. Now that Tony knew this, he would pull away in discomfort, doubting the entirety of his relationship with Steve, wondering how Steve’s feelings had affected his actions. Steve let himself smile at the beauty of a perfect plan set in motion and watched Tony’s shoulders shake from...laughter?

A peal of laughter echoed throughout the cell, high pitched and bordering on hysterical. Tony turned around, tears pricking the corners of his eyes above a sharp grin, and looked at Steve with wonder.

“You are truly twisted, you know?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Steve said, as a doubt curled through his stomach. This...this was not the reaction he had expected.

“Okay, I’ll give it to you that you remember how Steve felt, but your interpretation of those feelings is...well, I can’t say it’s too out of character,” Tony said, shaking his head.

“I’m telling you what I know,” Steve said, slightly peeved at Tony’s doubt. “He loved-”

“That’s hate!” Tony yelled, the edges of his voice wavering. “You sick bastard, you don’t even know what love is!”

Steve’s stomach dropped as everything clicked into place, as he finally saw what he could never see before. It was the only explanation for Tony’s behavior, the missing key. He had made a grave miscalculation with telling Tony about Steve’s feelings.

Steve loved Tony. And Tony loved Steve.

And up until now, neither of them knew.

“I know what love is,” Steve said flatly, still reeling internally. This...this put a wrench in all his plans, and there was nothing he could do. The wheel was already in spin, he had already set it into motion. His only saving grace at this point was that Tony didn’t believe him, that Tony thought Steve hated him. Maybe - _maybe_ \- Steve could use this too.

“Right, the Nazi knows what love is, definitely. God, I don’t even know why I listened to you in the first place.”

“He did love you,” Steve said, mind racing to form a new plan, “although after the war...well, you wouldn’t remember that, would you?” Tony’s brow furrowed, biting Steve’s bait immediately. Tony had done plenty of despicable things during the civil war, but he thought he knew most of them already. This planted a seed of doubt in him - what else had he done? What if Steve had loved him, and now, due to actions he didn’t remember, he had thrown that love away? What if Steve had never stopped hating Tony for the war, had simply put on a smile and endured his presence? Steve watched Tony struggle with those thoughts, then continued.

“You’ve done a lot of things to make him doubt his love, I will admit that. And my information is a bit outdated, what with us being separate now. But he did love you, once.” Tony shook his head weakly, his face a picture of barely contained devastation. His hands clenched idly at his sides, then moved up to look loosen his tie, a nervous tic.

“Why the hell are you even telling me this,” Tony groused, pulling at his tie aggressively until it came off, exposing a beautiful bare expanse of neck.

“He’s always been so forgiving,” Steve continued, ignoring Tony’s question. “After the war, after the mindwipe…” Steve moved closer, close enough to be uncomfortable. “Let’s just say that if I had been in control then, you’d have gotten a broken neck instead of a black eye.” Steve’s eyes dropped down to Tony’s throat, where his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously.

That was a lie, though. Steve wouldn’t have snapped Tony’s neck then, even if he was angry. No, he would have taken his time killing Tony. He would have wrapped his hands around his throat, tightened them until Tony couldn’t breathe, until his flailing was weak and his eyes started to pop out and eventually droop. And then, Steve would have let go, let Tony breathe, and then beaten him bloody, until Tony’s face became a different kind of beautiful. Then he would have repeated the process, again and again, until Tony was on the ground, begging for death, the sweet relief he’d always craved. And Steve would have pinned him down, trapped Tony as he took off Tony’s tie, took what he wanted, what he’d always wanted-

Steve snapped back to reality, pushed down his imaginations and his fantasies, locked them away and then melted the key. He didn’t have time for...whatever that was. He looked down at Tony, saw the fear in his eyes at Steve’s position and expression. Tony finally seemed to understand exactly how easy it would be for Steve to kill him now, how willing Steve was to do it.

The idea settled in Steve’s head, smoldered there, bright and burning. Why shouldn’t he? Tony was right here, within his reach. Tony’s mistrust would be damaging to Steve, yes, but Tony’s death? At his hands? That would wreck Steve more than anything else. His fingers twitched at his sides, itching to reach out and wrap around Tony’s throat as he leaned forwards unconsciously to loom over Tony.

Tony began to hunch his shoulders and take a breath when he was cut off by a loud, sudden ringing. Both men paused, frozen in a tense tableau as the ringing echoed through the cell once again. Tony’s eyes flickered down, and then back up to Steve’s. Holding his gaze, Tony slowly moved his hand to his pocket and pulled out a phone. Eyes still locked with Steve’s, he pushed a button on his phone and brought it to his ear.

“Hello, Tony Stark speaking,” he announced into the phone as Steve finally unfroze and leaned back. Steve watched Tony’s face as he heard the unmistakable sound of his own voice coming through the phone speaker. A cold chill of irrational fear ran through him, followed by a hot anger towards his other self and his own fear. Steve trembled slightly with the effort of staying still and composed while his stomach churned, all the while waiting and watching for what Tony would do next.

“Steve?” Tony said into the phone, watching the Steve in front of him warily. It stung that Tony would call his other self Steve and not him, that he refused to acknowledge that the two were one and the same, but he understood anyways.

“Yeah, it’s Steve,” the voice through the speaker said, faint and tinny. It was followed up by a fainter, “And the Mighty Thor!” Steve missed Thor, he realized with a pang. He missed the Avengers, being part of a team. He had given that up for Hydra, and would gladly do so again, but he still remembered his time among the Avengers fondly, despite the many failings of his teammates.

Steve predicted that his other self had realized this as well, and that this call was an attempt to reassemble the team. That suspicion was confirmed a moment later when the voice through the phone said, “I think it’s time we talked.” Steve knew himself - his other self was too repressed to ask for a serious conversation about feelings with Tony, so all signs pointed to this call being ostensibly for business rather than pleasure.

Tony seemed to have caught on to this as well, finally shifting his eyes away from Steve’s and saying, “About the Avengers?” into the phone.

“Right. About that,” the phone said. _Of course_ , Steve thought. _He couldn’t even say it, and it wasn’t even personal. That level of repression, of suppressing his own feelings, is simply pitiful._

“And yeah,” the voice continued. “Just us three.” Tony’s eyes flicked back to Steve, who kept his face carefully blank.

“Okay,” Tony said, his voice light despite the tension in his face. “Just us three. Text me the location.” And lifting his phone from his ear, he hung up.

“Well,” Steve said after a pause, “looks like you have somewhere to be.” Tony swallowed, face twisting in contained discomfort.

“Yeah,” he said dryly, and then turned his head to look back at Steve with a sharp smile.

“Well!” he exclaimed, “I’d best be off. Thank you for talking with me Mr. Nazi, it was truly a lovely conversation.”

“Glad to be of assistance,” Steve replied cordially, returning to the soft mimicry of his other self. Tony remained smiling, but his eyes still telegraphed distrust and insecurity. Steve wondered why it had taken him so long to interpret the look in Tony’s eyes, to see what Tony felt. Perhaps his other self was simply blinded by love, too ignorant to see the truth in front of his eyes.

Tony turned away, movements casual yet cautious as he put his back to Steve. He rapped on the door, and waited for a moment as it opened. Steve took the opportunity to sit back on the floor, cross legged and non threatening.

The door opened to reveal cluster of guards, guns drawn and pointed past Tony at Steve. Tony nodded at the lead guard, who nodded back and moved to let him out.

“And Tony?” Steve called out on a whim. After a moment, Tony turned back to face him, clearly tired of the conversation but allowing Steve to continue.

“My name is Steve,” he said with a soft smile. The last thing he saw before the door closed was Tony’s eyes, hurt and bitter.

The slam of the door echoed throughout the cell as satisfaction curled through Steve’s stomach. It soon settled into a cold, empty loneliness as Steve realized he may not see another visitor for months.

 _But after those months_ , Steve thought with a returning sense of satisfaction, _a lack of visitors will be no problem._

Steve moved his body back into position for push ups as he remembered the whisper of one of the guards following the impromptu visit from his other self, the quiet yet fervent ‘Hail Hydra.’

 _No,_ he thought as he began his reps again, _that will be no problem at all._

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three..._

**Author's Note:**

> This probably wasn't exactly what the prompt meant, but it's what popped into my head. Hope you enjoyed!  
> My tumblr is at [quantumdragon42.tumblr.com](http://quantumdragon42.tumblr.com/), and you can reblog the post for this fic [here](http://quantumdragon42.tumblr.com/post/179261806748/fic-your-definition-of-love-is-different-from)!


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